


Brother Knows Best

by imaginary_golux



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Blind Date, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 10:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13611360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: Dwalin isn't interested in going on a blind date, no matter what Balin thinks will be good for him. Ori is supremely uninterested in letting his eldest brother play matchmaker....Perhaps they have been a little hasty.Beta by my Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw.





	Brother Knows Best

Dwalin fidgets with the linen napkin and tries to keep from glaring out of his private corner at the other patrons of the restaurant, none of whom have actually done anything to irritate him. No, his ire is directed entirely at his older brother - Mahal damn Balin for an _inveterate meddler_ \- for getting him into this position. ‘ _Oh, Dwalin, I know the perfect dwarf for you, and I’ve set up a meeting at Bombur’s for tonight - no need to thank me, everything’s already been arranged - off you go, then, my compliments to Bombur and have fun!_ ’ Have _fun_. Dwalin scowls harder. Mahal only knows what Balin thinks his taste in other dwarrow is, but Dwalin is fairly sure it’s _wrong_ , because -

Well, because he hasn’t told _anyone_ , most especially his meddling older brother, that he’s fairly sure he’s already _found_ his One, he just hasn’t had the stones to _approach_ him.

Mostly because, that whole ridiculous Hero of Erebor thing aside, Dwalin doesn’t feel like he’s done _near_ enough to actually earn his the right to even _speak_ of his feelings, much less expect his One to respond. His One is _brilliant_ , and has already written _three_ sagas worthy of being added to the canon of dwarven history, and is brave as a young lion and sweet as honey and -

Well, Dwalin is smitten, and there’s an end to it; and it’s not fair to whichever dwarf Balin has talked into this farce to go through with it. When they arrive, Dwalin will tell them so, and then he’ll go and see if Bofur feels like getting drunk and singing bawdy songs in a truly wretched tavern and maybe getting into a bar fight, which usually makes Dwalin feel better, or at least lets him set his maudlin pining aside for a while.

*

Ori bats Dori’s hands away and scowls up at his brother. “Where are we _going_?” he demands. “I wasn’t done! Bilbo sent me a whole _book_ of Westron tales, and I’ve barely even started translating!”

“You work too hard, Ori,” Dori says, frowning. “Now come on, you’re late.”

“Late for _what_?” Ori wails.

“For your date,” Dori says, and starts fussing with Ori’s hair again. Ori sputters. His _date_? With who? Ori is not _interested_ in a date with some random - oh, Mahal, it’s some poor dwarrowdam who’s been roped into this because Dori wants niblings, isn’t it?

Ori has never mentioned the person he’s _actually_ in love with to Dori - or anyone else, for that matter - because...well...first off, Dori would fuss, and Ori likes giving Dori as few excuses to fuss as possible. And secondly, Dori would try to _matchmake_ , and Ori knows full well that his beloved wouldn’t be even a little bit interested. Why should he be? That whole ridiculous Hero of Erebor thing aside, Ori’s just a scribe. His _beloved_ is one of the greatest warriors of their people, known across the length and breadth of Middle-Earth for his courage and loyalty, the Orcslayer, the King’s Shield.

Ori had rather keep pining from a distance all his life than hear his beloved truly _reject_ him. Oh, Ori’s beloved would be kind about it - he’s astonishingly kind under the gruffness, really - but...well...Ori prefers never _knowing_ to having a broken heart.

“Dori, I am not _going_ on a _date_ -” he starts, and Dori puts a hand on the small of his back to propel him forwards.

“Too late, we’re here,” he says briskly, and shoves Ori through the door of a very familiar restaurant. “Back corner, past the tapestry!”

Ori stands there in the doorway for a long moment, wondering if he can make a break for it through the kitchens - Bombur would let him, Bombur is a good friend - and then sighs and squares his shoulders. He’ll just find this person and tell them...tell them Dori’s being _fussy_ again, and he’s very sorry but there’s no point in this date, he’s just not interested. Yes. That will do.

Ori nods to himself and heads towards the private table in the back, mentally running through the apology he’s going to have to give. Maybe after this he’ll see if Bofur’s in the mood to go out drinking and telling tall tales. That usually cheers Ori up.

Or at least distracts him, anyhow.

*

Dwalin looks up as the bell above the door jingles, to see _Ori_ , of all people, being shoved through the doorway. The young dwarf looks around, casts a brief hot glare back at whoever pushed him in, and then squares his shoulders like he’s going into battle again. Dwalin has to wonder what Ori is doing here so clearly against his will - and then Ori starts walking towards _him_ , towards the little tucked-away corner where Dwalin’s private table is.

Oh.

Dwalin takes a moment to curse Balin again, because Ori does _not_ look happy to be here. How much _worse_ is this going to be, to _know_ , rather than only suspecting, that Ori wants nothing to do with him. Dwalin braces himself -

And Ori rounds the corner and stops dead, staring. “ _Dwalin?_ ” he squeaks. Dwalin managed to get him to drop the ‘mister,’ at least, in those first weeks after the Battle of Five Armies. He’s trying to figure out what the right thing to say at this point is, when Ori covers his face with both hands and moans, “How did he _know_?”

And then he turns to flee.

Dwalin tries to get up, realizes he’s wedged himself in and the table is good dwarven stonework, hard even for a dwarf as strong as Dwalin to move without proper leverage - stretches out a hand and chokes out, “No, _wait_ -” without any hope that it will work -

Ori turns, slowly, and looks at Dwalin half-sprawled on the table, reaching desperately for him, and his eyes go wide. Very carefully, he steps closer, until he can reach out very delicately and touch his finger’s to Dwalin’s. He’s staring into Dwalin’s eyes like he can read the lost history of Belegost there, and - to Dwalin’s astonishment and delight - he seems to like what he sees.

“How did he know _what_?” Dwalin asks very quietly after a long, still moment.

Ori blushes crimson, and Dwalin takes his courage in both hands and stands, slowly, to move around the table, never letting his fingers slip from Ori’s.

“I was sitting here thinking about all the things _my_ brother doesn’t know,” he says, watching Ori’s eyes widen even further. “Except it turns out maybe he _does_. Irritating, that. He thinks he’s omniscient already. I hate proving him right.” Ori snorts a tiny laugh, and Dwalin feels about ten feet tall. “In this case,” Dwalin continues, “what he appears to know is that - is that I wouldn’t want to court any dwarf but you.”

Ori’s _ears_ go pink. It’s adorable. “I’m going to have to thank Dori,” he says, so softly Dwalin has to lean in close to hear him. “For knowing I - I want to court you, too.”

“Older brothers,” Dwalin sighs, grinning when Ori chuckles again. “Every time you think you’ve got a really _good_ reason to be mad at them, they do something like this.”

Ori steps forward, so close his breath is warm on Dwalin’s lips, smiling so sweetly Dwalin’s heart aches in his chest. “I think,” he says slowly, “I don’t want to talk about our brothers anymore.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dwalin says weakly, and Ori leans up, and their lips meet at last.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 7 of the February Ficlet Challenge.
> 
> I am imaginarygolux on tumblr; drop on by!


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